If
by Foresaken-Shadow
Summary: Three separate one-shots pertaining to the characters of Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood. EdWinry, RoyRiza, and LingLanFan
1. If We Were Older

**A/N:** This one is meant to be an experiment on my part. I am in the process of writing a few one-shots that all have a title that starts with "If We Were..." I wanted to do something with all of my favorite couples from _Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood_. (I haven't read the manga yet, and I never saw the first anime, so bear with me.) The first one-shot is Edward and Winry centric, the second will feature Mustang and Hawkeye, and the third Ling and Lan Fan. They are all separate stories with disjointed continuity; each has a different rating and features different people.

Also! If you aren't caught up to speed with _FMA: Brotherhood_, there's a good chance these will contain spoilers. Just being safe and looking out for you guys.

Hope it's not too confusing. Enjoy the read and feel free to review, I love reading them!

**If We Were Older**

Winry held a gun to Scar. Edward held her back. It might have been permissible if they were older. Might.

T for violence.

Edward x Winry

x x x

She had nightmares.

In each one, she could never put the pistol down. On the better nights she was facing Scar. On the worse she was standing at point blank range from Edward.

On the better nights he came to her rescue. She was left in tears at an unmoving, blonde savior who simply frowned down at her. On the worse nights she murdered him and was left sobbing her heart out as she fell to her knees. Some night she understood. The majority of them, she couldn't comprehend why she even decided to pick up the gun in the first place.

It was for vengeance, wasn't it? It was to redeem her parents' lives, right?

Or perhaps it was to prove she herself was not afraid of death. Perhaps she clutched the gun to show that she would not die as they did. She would save herself incase he wasn't there to rescue her. Hell, as the days dragged on, it looked like he wouldn't even be able to save himself any more. The shadows laughed at her and reminded her of this fact—Edward, dear Edward Elric was a _child_, those shadows laughed, he was immature and overwhelmed. Her love would be the death of him, the shadows taunted.

Winry woke on the couch with tears in her eyes. It certainly wasn't true, she later realized, but at the time the shadows had seemed so convincing.

Another day passed. The Elric brothers came and went, going here and there and speaking to X amount of people in high places, trying to figure out this that and the other to get their bodies back. To save the world. To fix the shit that had befallen the world. Winry didn't know what was going on anymore. She told herself she didn't care so long as they came back alive. But it was getting hard to believe, even if she said it out loud. It was impossible not to care.

Edward sank onto the couch beside her, or rather a good two feet across the way, leaning on the complete opposite arm rest, and sighed after a hard day's work. His automail grinded and clanked as his arms folded behind his head. Winry smiled inwardly at the sounds that might as well have been music to her ears. Yet as she glanced sideways to him, ready to ask how his day was, she bit her lips. The way he sat, his arms blocking his face in such a precise manner, she knew something was wrong. He was hiding something.

"Edward?" she pressed in a tiny voice.

He didn't respond for a long while.

"I wish we were older already," Edward growled.

"What?" It was not the response she was expecting.

"Then I wouldn't have to deal with this shit. I'd either be dead or in the future. I just want to know the end already," he continued in perfect rhythm.

Her eyes went wide. Dying was not an option as far as she was concerned, but she was too startled by the words to express her opinion.

"If we were just five years older…Al would have his body and you and I would be together. Married, even, maybe with a kid…"

Winry couldn't breathe. Edward wasn't making sense. She hadn't heard him speak of his future since they were kids. Even then all he ever spoke of was becoming a great alchemist like his father, filling the shoes of the man of the house…never did he comment on his desire to have a family or even fall in love. If she didn't believe so firmly that she herself loved him, she likely wouldn't have any hope for him finding someone.

He glanced her astonished face and chuckled. "You can't tell me you haven't thought of it." As much as he masked it, he knew her heart very well. It was his own he was scared of. As far as he was concerned, his heart would stay locked behind steel bars until everything else in the world had been fixed. He didn't need anyone to see to him until then. But Winry, the poor thing, would always be looking out for him before herself. Something about that fact was comforting. Something about it was frightening.

Edward's heart raced for a split second. He promptly closed his eyes. The image that greeted him was wonderful.

He was taller. His hair was longer. Alphonse was stronger but his face was warm and comforting, as he had always known it to be. Winry… Winry was remarkably beautiful. She was the same and yet somehow different, thin and lithe with worn hands from automail work and at the same time she still didn't wear nearly enough clothing to be considered decent (though he didn't mind).

The vision quickly faded, and Edward was left smiling to himself, his teeth gnashed behind the grin.

Winry suddenly spoke. "I can't think of it," she whimpered. "I can't think beyond the week if you don't even believe you'll survive. I can't tell you how many times I've had to convince myself you're some type of superhuman that can't die because I don't think I could take it if you did. I don't like worrying, Ed. I don't want to have to live like this, worrying… I want to be able to think of the future, but…but I can't. I can't if I can't assure myself you'll be there."

She would have gone on but she suddenly cut her words short when she realized he began to slouch—Edward had passed out on the spot and was slumping into sleep. Winry was left leaning into the couch, looking in his direction with watery eyes for a pitifully long time before Alphonse entered the room and quietly informed her that his brother hadn't slept in three days.

Filled to the brim with concern, Winry felt she would burst. However, she silently promised herself she would not cry in front of the brothers, as she knew how much it hurt them. Instead, Winry bit back her tears and crept across the couch. She drew a quick breath and thought to herself, if he had the courage to speak of his future, one that he saw her in, she could sleep there, beside him, without offense. The girl curled onto herself tightly and rest against his side. The slightest smile crept onto her face but soon slipped away as sleep crept onto her being as well.

Alphonse crossed the room once more that evening. Much to his surprise (and secret delight), he found his brother's arm around their longtime friend Winry Rockbell, both deep in sleep and breathing in time with one and other. Al always knew it was meant to be.

That evening, Winry dreamt of her future. Two blonde men stood just out of reach, each smiling and laughing. One held his hand out to her. His hair was longer, and he was taller than she had ever known him to be.

Finally.


	2. if We Were Wiser

**A/N:** Just here to remind readers that this is a separate one-shot. The previous chapter has no bearing on this one. Happy reading!

**If We Were Wiser**

Lieutenant Hawkeye was reassigned. Mustang was the one to stand beside her as they tried to figure out when their lives went straight to hell.

M for language and hinting at adult themes.

Roy x Riza …a bit on the OoC side.

x x x

She liked to cry sometimes. When she was alone, just her and Hayate, she often found herself, in a daze, slumped sideways on the covers of her lonely bed. Black streaks ran down her face and it seemed that her lips would be forever fixed into a frown. Today, it seemed, it took two hours to get home. Her legs wouldn't move properly. She couldn't walk fast enough. Yet as soon as she crossed the threshold into her apartment, she was forced to grit her teeth so she wouldn't scream. She checked to make sure Hayate was fed and had enough water in his dish, and then promptly staggered to her room, tears in her eyes as she shrieked nonsensical sentences to the window.

Being Bradley's subordinate was hell.

Next thing she knew, four hours had passed, Hayate was yapping rather noisily, and someone…some man was standing in the doorway between her bedroom and the hall.

Her mind didn't instantly click.

Her hands clutched at the sheets so viciously her knuckles turned white. "Leave me be, Pride. I'm not in the mood for your jokes."

"Pride?"

The voice was music to her. It was enough to bring a foolish smile to her face and convince her to pull herself up into a half-way seated position.

"I'm all out of it, Lieutenant," he replied.

Riza was left with her hair askew around her face, smiling silly and unable to focus on his face though he stepped towards her. It wasn't until he came within a foot of the bed's side that her face promptly smoothed out and she snapped, "Get the fuck out of my house."

"Technically not a house." Was his timely response.

She hesitated before meeting his eyes. "If you're not Pride, tell me something that only you would know, _Colonel._"

He considered her statement for a moment. His voice dropped to near inaudible as he spoke. "The flame alchemy notes you have tattooed to your back? I burnt them off after saying I wouldn't four times. You didn't cry, although I was certainly expecting it."

"Get the fuck out of my apartment. Sir." She sat up a bit straighter. For some reason she thought that and the 'sir' would cover for the swearing.

His brow rose. "Well, I was really beginning to wonder if you were drunk but I can see you're not now."

"How the hell did you get in?" she spat.

"Door was open."

A good minute passed. "Get out." She blinked.

"You've been crying for the past half hour—"

She quickly glanced the bedside clock and then proceeded to shout, "Probably the past three. Regardless, get out, Mustang!" She was obviously angry if she resorted to using his name. Albeit it wasn't his first name, but still.

"No."

She grit her teeth and glared at him a minute more, but she knew it was to no avail. Soon Riza's head fell, and more tears silently slipped away from her.

"If this is what happens when we go a week without contact, I'm coming over every afternoon." He sat beside her on the bed but made sure not touch her.

"Fuck you, Colonel." He had caught her at her worst. She had gone so long thinking that if she could get by wearing a stone cold mask at work, she could crack and weep as much as she wanted at home.

Irritated at her demeanor, he shot back. "Is that an invitation, Hawkeye?"

She wanted to punch him. "Leave me alone," she whispered instead.

"So you can cry yourself to sleep? I think not. It's not healthy."

"I've had a hard day," she muttered.

"And you think I haven't?"

Her gaze slid sideways. She couldn't believe he was trying to compete with her. "Bradley's a nightmare. He's so calm. He mentions you at every opportunity. He's testing me, Colonel. He knows…" Her voice dropped off. She was defeated. She had cried too much, she hurt too much, she just wanted to sleep so she could drift away from the real world. It was becoming too horrific. Her dreams, even her nightmares were more pleasant than the real world seemed to be.

"He knows what?"

She didn't have the emotional strength to explain herself out loud. She didn't have the patience to play his games.

"I can't do this," she breathed. She couldn't cry any more, thank God. Before he could hardly move, Riza suddenly snapped, "Don't touch me, Colonel."

He put his hand back on his knee. Once again he was irritated at her condition, the fact she was broken and beaten and she wouldn't even allow him the opportunity to fix it. "A week is too much," he growled. "There's something wrong with us. And Bradley knew it."

"It's not us. It's this country. The fact no one saw this coming," Riza breathed. "If we were smarter we would have seen it."

Roy was staring at his feet. Hayate curled into a ball beside his shoes. He nudged the dog gingerly in an effort to scratch beneath his neck. Then when Riza's head came to rest against his shoulder, he jumped out of his skin. He didn't have time to react before her arms curled around one of his. She was crumbling. She kept mumbling, "If we were smarter," and Roy couldn't help but believe her.


	3. If We Were Stronger

**A/N:** Heh. A year later and I finally finish the last chapter (a week after I decided I wasn't going to do the third part). I've been rewatching _Brotherhood _and just got the urge to write! This chapter is separate from both the first and second, and the previous ones have no bearing on this one.

**If We Were Stronger**

Lan Fan would give her life for Ling. Now unabashedly immortal, he is afraid his body will betray him and destroy her.

T for language and themes.

Ling/Greed x Lan Fan

x x x

To even look at her was painful. But there was a moment after Gluttony's defeat and the shock of Pride dismantling him that he regained true control. The homunculus inside was wide eyed in horror and silently burned to flee. While the demon watched Pride, Ling watched her.

"Young Lord," she barely breathed from a good dozen feet away. Her face was impossible to read from behind the mask, and her eyes were too dark even against the fire to see properly.

"A moment, if you don't mind," Ling murmured, streaking past her while the others continued to stare at Pride's gall in chopping his brother in half.

They stole well into the forest together; Lan Fan flew over trees while Ling weaved around their bases. Finally the girl dropped to ground level when that evil chi just started to lessen; they were already likely a mile into the woods. The air around them remained entirely silent for a long, heavy moment, and then he bowed his head.

"You came," he began.

"Always, young Lord," she replied without missing a beat.

Ling, his face a sheet of strain and stress, relaxed into a smile.

"If I were stronger, I suppose I wouldn't need a team chasing after me all the time," he added.

Lan Fan nodded automatically. She watched his eyes glance over her, clutching her metallic fist as the slightest pain and shock flittered past his gaze. "Sir, don't…" His eyes returned to hers, "…don't worry about me. Are you…okay?" She knew what lurked inside, but had not truly seen it up close yet. A shudder tore down her spine and threatened to rock her knees as she listened to what her senses truly told her.

Run. Leave him. He reeks of malice and death.

But her heart beat defiantly. The man standing before her was the young Lord. Albeit taller, broader shouldered and a bit more lined, it was him. She felt normality and familiarity beneath the dark glow and its allure was positively tantalizing. Suddenly she realized she had been staring and flushed profusely, thanking the heavens she was still wearing her mask. At least he wouldn't see her shame.

He offered a slight smile in response. He was sharper than she knew. "I am…"

Something inside caught him in the gut. It was just a feeling, a sinking, towering wave of a feeling that unsteadied him.

"No," he breathed.

Despite his low tone, Lan Fan stepped forward and uttered in a tiny voice, "My Lord?"

Ling was quick to straighten, despite the inner turmoil raging within him. "I am happy to see you doing alright, even without me," he said quickly. It wasn't a lie. But to speak the whole truth of the matter would surely mean surrendering control. He wanted every minute with her. He wanted an eternity with her, but he knew better—

His shoulders shook and a voice cracked through that wasn't his. "What is this?" it was like ingesting poison to listen to his words. "Stealing away at the height of the battle? Who the fuck do you think you are, kid?"

Ling gnashed his teeth. Lan Fan's eyes had barely changed—Greed was speaking in his head, good.

But the monster was tearing away at his insides. His eyes flashed sharply to her face. "Can't see it. I'm sure she's a beaut…" The ultimate shield crept up his left hand. Ling's shoulders sagged and he clamped a hand over his face. If Greed wasn't bad enough, the grief washing over him was just insurmountable.

"Lan Fan," he whispered, craning his neck to the sky, forcing himself to stand straight as the shield crept over the skin of his arm. "I haven't much time…but please, your face…" The man managed a slight smile, "I haven't seen it in so long."

She immediately tore the mask away, watching the pain subside as his hand slipped to cover only his mouth instead. Then she opened her mouth and his heart started tearing to pieces again.

"Young Lord, please, fight him. I know you can!"

But feeling…feeling anything at all set Greed on fire. Ling struggled to speak over his thoughts.

"Oh, damn, isn't she just the picture of innocence. Badass and beautiful? Just take her now."

"Lan Fan…I promise you…the moment I fix this," Ling uttered, "the first person I want to speak to is you." He hadn't the strength to speak of such things now.

Suddenly it was like a train slamming into him. He staggered backwards a few steps, and Lan Fan immediately jumped to take up the distance. Her eyes wide in the dark, she couldn't stand to watch him tear away again. "Please," she whispered. "Please, he is a good man with a country…"

"And a woman waiting, too," Greed purred. Ling snarled at him. "Please," he scoffed inside, "you won't take any of the women I come across. And by God, the way you're fighting me…I know you want her too. Just let go, it'll be short and sweet and tragic all at once." Ling pulled back from Greed, still fighting for control but unwilling to continue the conversation.

"You can't tell me you _don't_ want her. I'm inside your head, remember?"

Lan Fan's hands were hovering just out of reach of the young Lord. She wanted to do something, anything to help him.

"Come _on_."

"Not like this," Ling growled. "You want to make her into something to be had. She's a person…she's a human being with a life and feelings of her own. I care for her…I want to be with her and I want to love her, but I want it done right! She's not an animal…and neither am I."

"Young Lord!" Lan Fan cried. He dropped to his knees. She caught his arms.

His head low and heart humming, Ling whispered, "Lan Fan, I love you. But please—"

She threw her arms around his middle and clung so tightly that her head slammed against his chest and knocked the breath out of him for a moment. The way his heart beat, though, said more than words could.

"I'm not strong enough…"

She watched the shield creep up his opposite arm. If she clung tighter…if she could just stay with him, she knew she could keep him there…

"If Greed comes for you…" He pressed his lips to the top of her head, knowing that this was all the time he could buy. "Run. Run unless you know you have the strength to cut him out of me."

"I make no promises. I will be there for you, young Lord," Lan Fan replied lowly as her eyes burned and her throat constricted. If they were stronger they might have managed more time together.


End file.
